


Sounds of Someday

by TheChaoticGoosewool



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (this does not apply to dean or sam or cas), Abusive John Winchester, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friends, Character Death, Dean Winchester Has ADHD, Depressed Dean Winchester, Depressed Sam Winchester, Engineer Dean Winchester, Everyone has anxiety, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Grieving Dean Winchester, Grieving Sam Winchester, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Homophobic John Winchester, Hurt, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Minor Character Death, Miscommunication, Musician Dean Winchester, Mutual Pining, Pen Pals, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Slow Build Castiel/Dean Winchester, Slow Burn, Writer Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:33:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 3,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28636335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheChaoticGoosewool/pseuds/TheChaoticGoosewool
Summary: Dean's resistance to join any clubs lead to him being forced to pick one more extracurricular, and he chose the easiest one he could think of: pen pals. All he would have to do would be type up some lame paragraph about whatever the hell he did in school that week and he would be fine, right?Maybe if he hadn't been matched from the kind mystery boy from god-only-knows-where, everything would have been fine, but meeting Cas ended up being the best decision Dean had ever made, and nothing could ever make him take it back.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 67
Kudos: 70





	1. Long Story Short

**Author's Note:**

> Ngl, the chapter titles are whatever song I play on loop when I'm writing. Get used to seeing a whole lot of Taylor Swift because damn evermore is a heller album. Also, you're getting a sneak peak at my destiel playlist.
> 
> This fic is probably going to take me a long time to finish but don't fear, I'm actually going to finish this one. Alas, this email/chapter is short because my brain is low on energy
> 
> So, uh, I hope you enjoy my destiel penpals au!!
> 
> Until next time,  
> Eli

Dear Dean Winchester, 

I hope you are well, and I hope that your day has been filled with interesting and exciting things. I’ve had quite a good day. I went to a new bookstore and bought eleven books. After about two hours of that, I went to a café to study for my upcoming Latin exam and my calculus exam next week. 

I’m not sure about you, but midterms are really stressing me out right now, so it’s nice to have someone to talk to about them.

On an unrelated, but far more interesting subject, in your last email you mentioned that you got a part-time job as a mechanic. That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you! I do hope that it won’t take too much time away from your music, as I know that’s something you care deeply about. And the bit of the chorus of the new song you’re working on is absolutely incredible! I spent far too long trying to sing it. (It did not go well. My singing is sub-par on a good day, and comparable to a demon on a bad one.)

Oh, and I might have some news by the next time that I write to you, but until then, stay safe, Dean. Tell Sam that he’s absolutely banned from making soup ever again.

Always yours,  
Cas(tiel)


	2. Hayloft

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell how much I love writing this? Because I do. It's so much fun
> 
> After this chapter it's probably going to be some backstory. Maybe the Soup Incident. Who knows? Not me
> 
> Clearly I was listening to Mother Mother jghjksdfghjlsdk
> 
> Until next time,  
> Eli

Hey there Cas,

Not much happened today, really, other than having to clean the kitchen again because Sam tried to make it again. (Don’t worry, I told him that you forbade it. This is the last time he’s trying it.. Especially since John got pissed at me.) 

My job isn’t going to get in the way of music, I promise. I know how much you love seeing what I write, and nothing, nothing, will get in the way of that, Cas. Plus, I still have to take care of Sammy so it’s only part-time. (John would kill me if I ditched Sammy again.)

I start Saturday. Just four hours. 11-3. Gives me enough time to work on my damned English essay. Who actually gives a flying fuck about Moby Dick??? It’s long as hell and about as interesting as watching paint dry.

Anyway, Cas, I’m sure your singing is amazing. It’s to be expected when you’re generally just amazing. (And you’re in no way comparable to a demon. Not at all.)

What’s your news? Is it exciting?? Did you finally submit one of your stories to a magazine? Got your driver’s license? Dyed your hair? Are you moving 2,000 miles across the country??

Dean


	3. No Body, No Crime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This alternates between what Dean is telling Cas and what actually happened. The italicised lines are what actually happened.
> 
> The song I was listening to is too fitting for my taste jkfhgkdjsghjkf
> 
> !!! Trigger warning for child abuse !!!
> 
> Until next time,  
> Eli

Cas,

I know I sent my last email about six hours ago and it’s two in the morning but I just want to talk to you. It’s calming, talking to you. You’re like coming home, I guess.

Well, not really. Coming home sucks, especially tonight. You don’t suck. Anyway, after I finished cleaning up the disaster that was the kitchen, John got home and was super pissed off because the sink was full of dirty dishes and there was nothing for dinner. Of course, he asked me why there was no food, since I’m supposed to be the one taking care of Sammy, and I had to tell him that Sam accidentally made a huge mess. That didn’t go over well, and he spent like three hours just yelling at me.

_“You fucking idiot,” John yelled. Dean flinched, and a fist landed on his ribs, and then another fist, and then another._

It sucked, obviously. He just kept saying that I should have stopped him or that I should have been home early enough to cook or that I should have at least ordered some take-out. 

_“You are so selfish.” John backed Dean into a corner, screaming down at him. Dean tried not to flinch again, but didn’t look at John at all. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes, but a few blinks successfully got rid of them. “You should NEVER have left Sam alone! You know how important it is that you keep him safe.” Dean just nodded._   
_“Yes, sir. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”_  
 _“You’re damn right it won’t,” John said firmly as he shoved Dean against the wall, then spent what felt like an eternity (though it was five minutes) leaving bruises on Dean’s torso._

Honestly the worst part is that I was only late getting home because I was working (if you can call what I was doing working) so that we had some extra cash because Sammy wants to go to Stanford when he grows up. 

Yours,

Dean.


	4. Armchair/Shotgun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Armchair/Shotgun IS a real thing, no I don't know anything about it other than that they do actually publish short stories in their magazine. 
> 
> Enjoy some angry Cas
> 
> Until next time,  
> Eli <3

Dean,

I can’t even begin to say how sorry I am that that happened to you. If given the chance, I will absolutely beat the life out of John. And if he ever does anything more than that, I will personally come to your house and kick his ass. 

As for Stanford, that’s an incredibly selfless thing for you to do, and I’m very proud of you for doing this for him. (Though you shouldn’t have to. He’s a smart kid and you already have so, so much on your plate.)

You’re amazing, Dean. I hope you know that. Doing all of this for Sam, as well as your job and school and music is impressive and terrifying. Hopefully your life becomes less chaotic soon.

I’m sure you’re curious (as you should be, it’s very exciting) about my news, and your first guess was right! I’m getting  _ Return of the King _ published in Armchair/Shotgun! I’m completely freaking out and my parents are so excited that they’re taking me to dinner at La Grenouille this weekend. I wish you could be here with me, you always tell me to get my writing published and it just feels a little… off… without you here.

Always yours,

Cas(tiel)


	5. Life Sucks. Here's Why:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First break in the "songs as chapter titles pattern" lmao. It was only a matter of time honestly.
> 
> So, I did actually write a bunch of poetry today. You'll probably see it in an hour or two (or right after you finish reading this chapter, depending on when you're reading it)
> 
> Until next time,  
> Eli

Hey Cas,

Life sucks. Here’s why:

  * John is still pissed at me
  * Sammy is being a prick about doing his homework
  * Lots of tests are coming (fuck tests)
  * Moby Dick is the bane of my existence
  * Gotta buy new bearings for my board because some dickwad stole mine 
    * They’re expensive
  * Baby needs a new headlight 
    * John was a little drunk and gently brushed (read: hit) a garbage can
    * I’m paying for it (of course)
  * Got an essay about the Crusades due Friday
  * Chem paper due Thursday (10 pages)
  * Literally no one but Mr. “Math is my entire life” cares about quadratics but we still have to learn it
  * Gonna have a scar on my ribcage (and my hand) 
    * I’m a clumsy idiot
  * Can’t play the guitar because of said hand injury
  * I’m not with you (this is the biggie)



I’m sorry about all the venty stuff I’ve been sending you lately, so I promise to send you some poetry soon. (But I can’t promise that they won’t be angsty as hell.)

Yours,

Dean


	6. Life Doesn't Suck. Here's Why

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second break in the chapter title pattern lmao but I had to
> 
> Next chapter is going to be very angsty, I'm not sorry (well, a little sorry)
> 
> You're getting to get a look at Dean's poetry soon (as well as Cas' writing shortly thereafter)
> 
> Until next time,  
> Eli <3

My Dean,

I’m sorry that all of this is happening to you. If I may ask, what happened? Are you going to be okay? Did John do something? Did something happen at work?

(If John did something, I will personally go there and kick his ass.)

If you would like some reasons that life _doesn’t_ suck, here are a few:

  * Moby Dick is only 206,052 words long
  * The sky is the same color as my eyes right now
  * You’re in this world.
  * I listen to your music when I need to relax
  * Last week, I bought some picture frames and then typed out some of your poems on a type writer. My room is so much nicer now that a little bit of you is in it
  * A single headlight cover is only 10-30 dollars
  * I’m writing this at the park and there are two girls, friends, pushing a giggling baby on a swing and the baby’s dad is running under the swing. The baby _adores_ it and won’t stop laughing
  * The sun is starting to set now (I’ve been here a while) and it’s a beautiful swirl of magenta, salmon, orange, and a dusty baby blue
  * I get to talk to you.



Always yours,

Cas(tiel)

P.S. You're not a clumsy idiot. Or an idiot. I'm looking forward to your poetry!


	7. Do I Wanna Know?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!! TW for mentions of child abuse !!!
> 
> This is your first look at Dean's poetry (he was twelve when he wrote this. I'm 14. We are mentally exactly the same)
> 
> (also poetry is not my strong suit)
> 
> Until next time,  
> Eli

_Don’t wanna fly_

_When I have to come down_

_Sometime_

_Cause he always comes_

_And kills the fun_

_And hates the sun_

_But I’m yet to see_

_Who he can really be_

_But at least he doesn’t beat me_

That last line had been added when his friend, Benny, said that his dad beat the shit out of him a few days ago, then pulled him out of school until the bruise on his face healed. He was twelve. They were both twelve.

And the final line? Added a couple weeks later-

_At least he didn’t beat me_

-in a secret notebook that Dean hid in a hole he cut out of his mattress. Dean his every single bit of music and poetry that he ever wrote in there.


	8. My Dean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at this point the chapter titles are whatever the hell i'm gonna do so deal with it lmao
> 
> xander darling please let me remind me that you cant kill john because he is a Fictional Character but yes if it were possible i would absolutely help you do it
> 
> Until next time,  
> Eli

_My Dean._

My

Dean.

Cas said, ‘My Dean’.

Cas was right though. Dean was his, not that either of them were consciously aware of it yet, not entirely.

Dean was lying in bed, bright white light illuminating his face in the darkness. Dean had read Cas’ email several times, as he always did, but this was different. Cas had never been like this. Never so affectionate. Dean wasn’t complaining, of course. Not really.

He was trying to read it for the fifth time, but his brain went fuzzy every time he read “My Dean’. He’d kind of registered the other compliments, but nothing stood out as much as those two litter behind his name.

My Dean.

Comfort. Adoration. Love. Love?

“God, I love him,” Dean thought.

“Wait. No. No. I don’t love him. He’s my friend. That’s it,” Dean muttered to himself, not allowing himself to love Cas. Not allowing himself to be _like that_. Not allowing himself to feel that way for another boy. Not allowing himself to be queer.

Because if Dean was queer, he was wrong and bad and sinful and everything that was supposed to be wrong with the world. John told him that when Dean was eight or nine when someone murdered a gay man for being himself.

Oh shit. John. If he found out… Dean’s life would become a living hell. He’d probably get beat up every day during the school year and spend vacations at some conversion camp or something.

Dean didn’t actually have a problem with _other_ people being queer, but him? It couldn’t be an option, so it wasn’t one. It couldn’t be while John was in the picture. Not if it could affect Sammy.

So, Dean forced it down until he sometimes forgot it was there. There were sometimes where he liked some girl and thought that maybe, just maybe, he was normal, but deep down he knew that even though his feelings for women were real, he was still attracted to men.

It’s not like anyone had to know, though. This ‘thing’ with Cas, a guy who he had never met and didn’t even know what he looked like, would pass as quickly as all his other crushes. He’d find some lovely girl and fall in love and have a nice life and he could leave all of this in the past.

Wait. No. It wouldn’t pass like all of his other crushed because it wasn’t a crush. They were nothing more and never would be. He and Cas were just friends. Dean refused to imagine them being anything more. He refused to let it happen because he didn’t even _want_ that. Dean was straight. He always would be and always had been, no matter what that little voice in the back of his head said. No matter what he felt one the rare occasions that one of his buddies hugged him or when Benny started into his eyes for just a second too long or when he was at the gas station and saw all those magazines with hot guys on the cover.

Not hot… Conventially attractive. Nothing more, nothing less.

The thought of those magazines reminded Dean of the time he bought a hunting magazine for John because he figured John would like it. John yelled at him and told him that “only queers and sissies read magazines”.

Dean hadn’t touched one since.

Wait, what had been thinking about? Oh, right, Cas. Cas, whose eyes were the colour of the sky. Cas, who was going to be published soon. Cas, who asked after Sammy. Cas, who put up with all his venty poetry. Cas, who listened to his music to relax. Cas, who framed his poetry. Cas, who researched headlights for him. Cas, whose mom taught him archery instead of dying. Cas, whose dad helped him study for tests instead of beating him up. Cas, whose brothers weren’t his responsibility. Cas, who was always dorky and kind and sweet and made him feel better on even his worst days.

Cas, who said ‘My Dean’ instead of just ‘Dean’.


	9. Crisis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so so sorry for putting you through so many crises but i have to
> 
> also
> 
> this was written from 1-4 in the morning with no editing
> 
> and also i had to type this whole fucking thing after i wrote it because i wrote it in a notebook like i always do
> 
> enjoy!!!
> 
> Until next time,  
> Eli

As Dean zoned in and out of reality from those two little letters, Cas was having a panic attack.

Clammy hands gripped at his indigo sweater as he tried to focus, to calm down, to just _think_.

Why did he do that? What if it was too much? What if Dean ghosted him or hated him or thought it was weird?

All the ‘what if’s clouded not only his mind but shut down his other senses to the point that he couldn’t hear his mom calling him for dinner.

Gabriel and Michael were texting each other the worst memes they could possibly find as they waited for Castiel to come downstairs. It almost never took him this long, especially not when their dad was making barbequed chicken. But, since they were idiots, they didn’t even notice that nearly ten minutes had passed since dinner had been done and that it had been that morning when they last saw him.

Amara started worrying at minute two but decided to give him until 6:27 before she went into his room. (It was 6:26.)

The hand on her watched moved slightly and she made her way up the stairs and knocked on Castiel’s door.

The sound was sharp enough to knock Castiel out of his head, as well as out of his bed. He tumbled out of bed and called out to the other side of the door.

“Just a sec, mom.” He rushed to his bathroom, well, the guest bathroom that he locked everyone else out of and tossed some water onto his face to properly pull him back to the land of the living. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

Amara nodded, though her some couldn’t see her, and she realized this a few moments afterward.

“Alright, come down soon, Cassie. Dad’s done cooking.” Amara went down the stairs and to the table before her sons noticed that there was new a freshly barbequed chicken there.

“Cassie coming?” Jimmy asked as he set out plates and cutlery.

“He’s coming. Probably just being a teenager.” Amara nodded.

Sure enough, Castiel came running down the stairs just thirty seconds later, his face covered in a smile. He was probably overdoing the ‘happy look’ but overdoing it was better than having to explain why he wasn’t happy.

He ruffled his brothers’ hair and he walked by.

“Dinner’s ready, idiots.”

Gabriel and Michael grumbled but followed Castiel to the dining room, still sending each other memes. Gabe sat across from Castiel as Michael sat down next to him.

Dinner went about as well as it could, considering Castiel’s circumstances, but it wasn’t at all notable.

Castiel excused himself as quickly as possible without seeming suspicious and went up to his room to start drafting an apology email to Dean.

Several minutes of scribbling and crumpling papers followed before Cas decided against writing it, because maybe Dean didn’t even notice. He knew Dean was more perceptive than that, but Cas needed to be right.

Besides, it’s not like he meant anything by it. He was just being nice to his friend. He didn’t even like boys in that way.

Well… There was that one time that he nearly kissed- no. That was just a fluke. Nothing else. They didn’t even kiss and it’s not like staring into someone’s eyes and slowing leaning closer meant you were about to kiss, right?

Cas went over to his bookshelf and grabbed the notebook he reserved specifically for poetry and started writing. Writing until every emotion was out of him and onto the paper. Writing until his head was cleared. Writing until he could breathe again.

By the time Cas was finished pouring his heart out, it was nearing nine p.m. Shit. He has environmental science homework due in the morning, as well as three pages of calculus that he was yet to start.

Castiel flopped onto his bed and opened his laptop, waiting for his laptop to load. Once his browser cooperated, Castiel sighed and clicked into a new tab instead of reading his assignment. A couple of strikes of the keyboard and the quick press of ‘enter’ before he could talk himself out of it landed him on a search page filled with “am I gay” quizzes.

Reluctantly, Castiel took three of them before he started having a sexuality crisis. _Another_ sexuality crisis. Though this one was different because he actually started truly questioning his sexuality, instead of just wondering a little bit.

It was another two hours before he finally started working, half-assed though it was.

It was 1:30 when Castiel finally finished the three pages of calculus.

He fell asleep, dreaming of the mysterious boy on the receiving end of his emails.


	10. Starcrossed Lovers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!! so sorry about the delay, my dad got sick so we started quarantining and then on Sunday i started feeling sick plus i had a fuck ton of tests and stuff and I'm getting a covid test in a couple hours (which for some reason i, the 14 year old, have to pay for)  
> anyway, how are you doing? hopefully better than me lmao  
> i might try an update schedule but I'm making zero promises  
> this chapter is going to feature my first poem of 2021 (yes i wrote this one before the one you've already seen)  
> (also i wrote the poem while reading romeo & juliet, can you tell?)  
> enjoy!!!  
> until next time,  
> eli

Cas,

Thank you so so much for your email. (Are your eyes really that blue? If so, WOW!!!)

And dude, you keep my poetry in your room? I’m fucking honored. I’m guessing mine is hiding behind some of the greats though. (If you’re putting my poetry near anyone it better be Emily Dickinson.)

A year ago, if someone told me that 200 words on a computer screen could make me so happy, I’d laugh at them but honestly, Cas, that meant the world to me. Thank you so much.

As promised, a poem:

Solemn days

Lonely nights

Always getting into fights

Messy notes

Messy feelings

Messy life

Tired days

Sleepless nights

Working on and on

Left alone

Yet not trusted

What a deal

So star-crossed lovers,

In the night?

Still not real


	11. #233c4e

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes the title is hex code, not some error
> 
> google it, it's a nice colour
> 
> btw, sorry this chapter took so long to upload, it took a while to find things to say about my poetry (because even though it's dean's, it's mine)
> 
> until next time,  
> Eli

My dear Dean,

Absolutely nothing brings me more joy than seeing your poetry, especially the poems that fill me with an indescribable sense of calm, as well as something between happiness and contentedness. This one is certainly getting a spot right next to Emily Dickinson, though hopefully you won’t object to some of yours being near Maya Angelou. She was truly amazing.

As for your question, yes, my eyes really are that blue. When I was young, maybe six or seven, after we moved here, my parents tried to convince me to paint my room a nice bright blue. “To match your eyes,” they said. “You have eyes like the sky, Castiel.”

It truly was a horrid colour, but I didn’t tell them that. I somehow managed to talk them down to a desaturated grey-ish blue (#233c4e), which I actually find quite pleasant, even now. It still matches my eyes, they couldn’t be swayed from that, but it’s nowhere near the loud colour that belongs in no year post-1979.

Anyway, on to the mandatory picking apart of your writing and showing you how amazing it is because you’re stubborn and refuse to admit that you have talent.

“Always getting into fights” Dean, I will literally fight someone if it means you don’t get hurt. Yes, I’m aware that I’m being a hypocrite.

“Tired days

Sleepless nights

Working on and on” This is all too familiar. Staying up late to do work, going to school too tired to do the work, and the cycle repeats. Rest is rare and relaxation rarer.

“So star-crossed lovers,” I’m going to take a shot in the dark here and assume that you were reading Romeo & Juliet before you wrote this.

“Still not real” Not yet, anyway.

I’m going to keep saying this until you believe it. You’re amazing. You write like no one I’ve ever met and if you ever decided to put this out there, for the world to see, people would fall in love with you after the first line. Your writing will go down in history someday, I promise you that. You are an incredible person and you should know it.

Yours once more,

Cas(tiel)


	12. Mansard Roof

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is mostly just dean rambling to cas which is really easy to write so you're getting a chapter really quick after the last one
> 
> (and the title comes from a song from my friend's "due to personal reasons i will be decomposing" playlist <3)
> 
> until next time,  
> eli

Cas,

I swear to fucking god it should be illegal to make me smile as much as I just did. There’s no way in hell I’d every object to having my stuff near Maya Angelou, and you’re right. She was incredible.

I had to google the colour but man, that’s really nice. You have awesome taste. Just making a guess here but I’m thinking that you insisted on making the rest of your room match it, except for the books and the typewriter. (I don’t think either of those go with a semi-modern aesthetic, then again, I probably belong in the 90s.)

“Your writing will go down in history someday.” Dude, that’s gonna be you. You’re already technically about to go published and if you ever published your other short stories everyone would know your name. “Castiel Novak. Writer. Friend. Fucking awesome human being.” It’s got a nice ring to it, huh?

And yeah, I had just finished re-reading Romeo and Juliet when I wrote that poem. It’s kinda about my experiences with my dad and taking care of Sammy and never actually having a proper relationship, or even friendship. Another thing, make sure you get enough sleep. We can’t have you falling in the sleep in the middle of the day, can we?

Oh, AND, I will fight you if you fight someone for me. Not even because I can fight my own battles, but because you getting hurt is considerably worse than me getting hurt.

If you ever need a hype man or anything, I’m here for you. You’re plenty good and should know it.

Oh oh and!!! I started reading some Stephen King books and goddamn the man can write.

Other thing: I got Baby’s headlight fixed. Bobby owns a garage (which is where I work now) and he offered to fix it for me ‘cause he kinda hates John and he felt bad for me. Usually I’d say no but honestly my week had been bad enough so I just said yeah. Bobby honestly is fucking awesome and the guy is more of a dad than anyone else. I’ve known him for basically forever and he’s really cool and anyway, I’m rambling. Sorry about that. This is honestly long enough anyway and I’m not even done so I’m probably going to send you another one later today after I finish my homework.

I hope you had a good day and I hope that your brothers don’t piss you off too much.

Dean


End file.
